


Golden Ticket

by lightsaroundyourvanity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Conventions, Dress Up, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsaroundyourvanity/pseuds/lightsaroundyourvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie enters the wonderful world of Supernatural cons and cosplay. Making out ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Ticket

**Author's Note:**

> After the 8x20 preview, I had to do this. I’m working under the fandom theory that Chuck’s books are published online through season five because, well… it’s more fun that way.
> 
> Although I feel a little bit like Abed when Jeff Winger told him, “Not everything has to be meta! Why do you always have to stick everything up it’s own ass!” right now.

Going to a convention when you know the guys the book series was based on, like, _personally_ , wasn’t weird, right? It was like research. Research where you got to dress up.  
  
 Okay, even Charlie knew that was a bit of a stretch. But she couldn’t help it. As soon as she had found the Supernatural fandom she was hooked. Sure, she knew way more about Sam and Dean’s deconstructed childhood than she ever wanted to know, but some of those discussions were really smart. They made her want to reread the books and come up with crazy theories of her own. And the fanart!  
  
Yeah, it was a little far off monster hunting, which she knew was what she was meant to be doing right now. But hey, a girl deserves a break now and then, right?  
  
Right. And her costume was too good to waste. Charlie straightened her dark wig and readjusted her con badge on her purple blouse. The black jeans were a hell of a lot tighter than what she would prefer to wear, and she tottered on her heeled leather boots, but hey, you had to suffer if you wanted to crush it as Meg Masters, right?

And she was crushing it.   
  
“Meg! Oh my god! I love it!” A fan, not in costume, approached her in the lobby. “Can I take a picture?”  
  
“Naturally.” Charlie struck a pose, and shot him her sassiest, most demonic smirk. The camera snapped, and it’s owner checked it on its screen before grinning. “That looks great. Thanks so much!”  
  
“Thank _you_ ,” Charlie said, before they went their separate ways. Charlie wasn’t sure where she wanted to go first. There were two panels she was interested in —one the themes of father figures in Supernatural; and another on how angels might travel through time and space on a regular basis— and she wasn’t sure which she wanted to choose.   
  
She was set to just head to whatever hall was closest, when another figure darted into her space.  
  
“You seem pleased.”  
  
It took a second for Charlie to connect the pieces. The girl standing in front of her was blonde, intense looking, and very cute. Then she saw the long tan trench coat and the twisted blue tie, and her ears registered the gravelly voice the girl had put on, and she knew exactly what was going on.  
  
Charlie hardly missed a beat, and volleyed back, “We’re gonna win. Can you feel it? We’re going to heaven, Clarence!”  
  
The girl narrowed her eyes. “I heard a different theory from a demon named Crowley.”  
  
Charlie liked the enthusiasm. She really liked it. In fact, this chick was starting to get cuter by the second, and she thought maybe she ought to ask what panel she was headed to. But since she’s a little tired of the impromptu role play (or maybe she just wanted an easy excuse to get up close and personal with blondie), Charlie skipped to the end, and leaned in a little too close. “So what can you do, you impotent sap?”  
  
Instantly, she felt the spark between them. Frak, she loved cons. And she’s pretty sure that the other girl was feeling it too, because she actually _did_ skip a beat, and her eyes flickered to Charlie’s lips for a moment.    
  
“What’s your name?” she asked, popping out of her daze.  
  
“Charlie.” Charlie flashed her a winning smile.  
  
“I’m Becky. I love your costume.”  
  
“And I love yours,” Charlie said, with feeling. “You make a hot Castiel.”  
  
Becky flushed. “You think so? I’m a Sam girl all the way, but I mean, he’s just so _tall_ , and with all the _muscles_ , he’s hard to pull off, you know?”  
  
“Um. Sure.” Okay, so maybe it was a little weird. Charlie wondered what Sam thought of his fangirls. But she was also on a roll, so she pushed it aside and said, “Well, I love your costume.”  
  
“Thanks,” Becky said softly.  
  
“I would love to go somewhere where we could exchange notes,” Charlie suggested, and since it was the flimsiest excuse in the book, Charlie knew she had it in the bag when Becky nodded, with all of that sexy enthusiasm.   
  
There was an empty room where a panel had just emptied out, and Charlie pulled Becky into it. Becky immediately sat down hard on a blue plastic chair, and Charlie leaned over her, fingering her tie. “This is awesome,” she said. “Where did you get it?” Charlie realized that it felt surprisingly natural to be so seductive when wearing skintight jeans.  
  
“Value Village,” said Becky, barely above a squeak. “It’s great for costume shopping.”  
  
She sounded so nervous, but her eyes were huge and blue and trained on Charlie, nervous yeah, but excited too, so Charlie threw caution to the wind and closed the gap between their mouths.  
  
Becky kissed back right away, Her hands fluttered for a minute, like she didn’t know what to do with them, and then came to rest on Charlie’s shoulders. Charlie squirmed closer until she was straddling Becky and kissed her deeper, parting Becky’s lips with her tongue. Charlie’s hands were firm on the other girl’s waist, and she slid them up to cup her breasts, pulling a breathy sigh from Becky. Charlie smiled against Becky’s lips and rolled her hips, mimicking the same movement with her tongue as their kisses became hungrier, and Becky ran her hands down Charlie’s arms and nipped at her bottom lip with surprising fierceness.  
  
It was a good solid ten minutes of groping and making out, and Charlie was beginning to think that this really might be her lucky day and third base was in the cards, when Becky broke away suddenly.  
  
“Oh, crap!” She yelped. “I have to— I’m supposed to be moderating a panel right now. I have to go.”  
  
Mournfully, Charlie felt her lady wood deflate. She climbed off of Becky. “That’s a bummer.”    
  
“Yeah.” Becky busied herself rebuttoning her shirt and straightening her tie. “I’m sorry to um, cut and run—”  
  
“That’s okay,” Charlie said, a little forlornly.  
  
“—but there’s the Harvelle Roadhouse pub night later on,” Becky barrelled on. “Maybe I will see you there?”  
  
Charlie brightened. “Yeah. Hey, maybe we could get a pizza or something first!”  
  
Becky’s smile was shy and beatific. “I’d like that.” she hesitated for a moment, and then kissed Charlie again, a quick brushing of lips, before darting out the door.  
  
Charlie touched her fingers to her lips. Second base in under an hour, and a date later tonight? Frak, she loved cons.


End file.
